“She told me so herself.” “She! When and where have you seen her?” “Here, at headquarters; in Sebastopol, where we were prisoners together; at the camp yesterday, where we parted.” “My poor head cannot bear this,” said Conway, painfully; “I am struggling between the delight of all these good tidings and a terrible dread that I am to awake and find them but a dream. You said that she was here in the camp?” “That she is. If you but heard the cheer that greeted her arrival! It began at the advanced pickets, and swelled loader and louder, till, like the roar of the sea, it seemed to make the very air tremble. There, hear that! As I live, it is the same shout again.” “Here comes the General and his staff into the court below,” said the doctor, hurrying away to receive them. As the sounds of a distant cheer died away, the noise of horses' feet resounded through the courtyard, and the clank of musketry in salute announced the arrival of an officer of rank. “I declare they are coming this way,” cried Mr. Reggis, rising in some confusion, “and I heard your name spoken. Coming, I have no doubt, to see _you_.” “The General of your division, Conway, come to ask after you,” said an aide-de-camp, entering, and then standing aside to make place for a venerable, soldier-like man, whose snow-white hair would have graced a patriarch. “I have come to shake your hand, Conway,” said he, “and to tell you we are all proud of you. There is nothing else talked of through our own or the French camp than that daring feat of yours; and England will soon hear of it.” A deep blush of manly shame covered Conway's face as he listened to these words; but he could not speak. “I have been talking the matter over with the General Commanding-in-chief,” resumed he, “who agrees with me that the Horse Guards might, possibly, recognizing your former rank of Captain, make you now a Brevet-major, and thus qualify you for the Bath.” “Time enough, General, for that,” said Conway. “I have a very long arrear of folly and absurdity to wipe out ere I have any pretension to claim high rewards.” “Well, but if all that I hear be true, we are likely to lose your services here; they have a story abroad about a peerage and a vast fortune to which you have succeeded. Indeed, I heard this moment from Miss Kellett--” “Is she here, sir?--can I see her?” cried Conway, eagerly. “Yes. She has come over to say good-bye; for, I regret to say, she too is about to leave us to join her brother at Calcutta.” A sickly paleness spread itself over Conway's cheeks, and he muttered, “I must see her--I must speak with her at once.” “So you shall, my poor fellow,” said the other, affectionately; “and I know of no such recompense for wounds and suffering as to see her gentle smile and hear her soft voice. She shall come to you immediately.”